


Wanting

by pkmntrainer_alex



Category: One Piece
Genre: Creampie, Desk Sex, F/M, Groping, Kissing, Seduction, Teasing, Woman on Top
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 21:28:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24662329
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pkmntrainer_alex/pseuds/pkmntrainer_alex
Summary: Crocodile has a private meeting with Miss All Sunday at Rain Dinners
Relationships: Crocodile/Nico Robin
Comments: 2
Kudos: 40





	Wanting

**Author's Note:**

  * For [chillyacademic](https://archiveofourown.org/users/chillyacademic/gifts).



> \- This work was written for chillyacademic! Thank you so much for asking me to write for you, I'm truly honored.  
> \- I have found myself enamored by this pairing and I like the energy they have together.

“As far as the others know, I’ve never seen your face. I think it would be best to keep that lie going, for the purposes of this mission.”

“I’m inclined to agree.” Crocodile sat with his back to Daz - no,  _ Mr. 1  _ \- eyes focused absently on the large tank behind him. The water filled every inch of the glass, distorting any sun that found its way through and giving his office a gauzy sort of light. It looked almost beautiful, being so calm and empty at that moment. His Bananawani were nowhere in sight - and he suspected they were lurking further at the bottom, closer to the darkness. He knew he picked such fitting pets for a reason. “The less the other agents know, the better.”

Crocodile felt a peculiar brush on his thigh, and he slowly lowered his eyes to his lap. Two slender arms had bloomed on either side of his seat, concealed from Daz’s sight by the high back of the chair. He could feel gentle, insistent caresses on his thighs, gripping at firm muscle. One hand moved away from the other, leaving it to stroke at him while it teasingly traced the button of his pants.

“Boss?”

“What?” Crocodile answered quickly, more irritably than he intended. He felt his cock twitch, still concealed in his pants, but not if those hands had anything to say about it. Swiftly and silently, the button was undone, and fingertips rubbed at the teeth of the zipper as the other arm straightened up, curling a finger in an unmistakable  _ come here _ motion.

“I asked if there was anything else you needed?” If Mr. 1 was bothered by Crocodile’s abrupt, angry response, he didn’t show it. There was shuffling behind him as Mr. 1 gathered up his things and stood up where he had been sitting across the office, on a velvet lounge brought in from the casino proper. “I’m guessing not. I have my orders; I’ll be heading out.”

Crocodile pulled a cloth from his pocket and rubbed slowly at his hook, buffing it to a gleam as the hands continued to grope and tease. He had grown harder from their relentlessness, and both hands were tracing his length over the dark fabric. Along one side of the shaft, more lightly over the head, and back down the other. Over, and over. “I have faith in your abilities. If we’re all done here, I believe Miss All Sunday requires my attention.”

“We’re done. I’ll be in touch.” He heard the door open, and saw a crack of light cutting through the darkness and scattering into the water of the tank. When the door was closed once more, Crocodile stood up slowly, watching as the hands vanished as quickly as they had appeared. They had left his cock fully hard, straining against his pants and aching - exactly as she had intended. He couldn’t work in such a state - could hardly even think. 

Using his hook to catch one side of his open coat, he pulled it over his exposed torso to conceal his arousal as he left his office, heading directly to where he knew she’d be waiting for him. He thought about her, how she’d waited for him in the past. Once, in black lingerie and thigh-high stockings, a teasing little half-smile on her lips. Another time in an elegant dress, bordeaux in color, with a deep V teasing down to her navel. Each time a surprise. Crocodile only hoped she’d put as much thought into it again this time.

When he reached her room, he tapped his hook once against the door. The hall where he stood was no brighter than his office, the walls a dark pinstripe that absorbed what little light was given from the decorative sconces he’d chosen when the casino was built. From under the door, he could see a ribbon of light - soft and rosy in color. He wondered how long she’d been planning this, and preparing.

“Come in.” She had him so trained that his body reacted even just to her  _ voice _ now, with the rest of her still unseen. His cock gave another heavy twitch, and Crocodile held his coat closer to conceal it. If she saw it right when he walked in, she’d get that little smile. And that little smile, with all the teasing she’d already subjected him to...he didn’t think he could control himself.

Inside, her office was as neat and tidy as it always was, with stacked archeology books lining the shelves against the walls and old maps tacked up in the gaps between. Miss All Sunday was nothing if not diligent in her research - it was part of what had attracted him to her in the first place. It was only slightly brighter than his office, painted dark with a few lamps strategically placed with red shawls thrown over them. Set back in the room slightly, just out of the light, was her desk - just a titch smaller than his own - and on top of the desk…

“Any other woman would be upset at how long you took to get over here.” Her voice was a low purr, measuredly sweet in its tone.

“You’re not any other woman.”

“So you like to remind me.” She was sitting on the very edge of the desk, draped in that long, fur-lined white coat she was so fond of. The purple corset and skirt he’d grown accustomed to seeing coupled with the coat were nowhere to be seen, exposing large breasts, a trim waist, and hips he’d squeezed and clung to so many times already. Her legs, one delicately crossed over the other as she sat, observing him, were encased in black stockings - thin bands of lace hugging her thighs where they ended. 

Crocodile stepped closer, striding to her as though it were any casual meeting between the two of them - although he couldn’t remember the last time it had been anything but casual. The closer he drew, the more he could smell her - it was the faintest kiss of freesia. It was taking everything he had to keep from reaching out to her, sweeping her in his sand, drawing her into his arms and fucking her right there on the floor. 

“Did you  _ want _ something, Miss All Sunday?” Crocodile kept his voice mild as he stopped in front of her, struggling to keep his eyes on her sultry, heavily-lidded ones. Her face was framed by long, black hair that caught the light and reflected it. He reached his hook to her face, stroking it against her soft cheek and drawing it down to her chin. Catching her on the rounded back of the hook itself, he tilted her head back to get a better look at her face. “Something so urgent you just  _ had _ to disrupt my meeting with Mr. 1?”

There it was, then, that teasing smile. The minute he saw it, he knew his cock was beginning to stain his pants. “Disrupt?” There was amusement in her voice, and her eyes did not leave his as she reached a hand to grasp at his hook. Crocodile watched as that all-too-familiar hand stroked lovingly at the gold, before his eyes darted back to hers. “I practiced discretion. I’m sure he didn’t notice a thing.” 

Crocodile’s eyes left hers again, gazing down at her body from where he stood above her. So close, he could see how stiff her nipples already were, the fur lining of her coat brushing against them with every breath she drew. Skin dipped in at her belly, and beyond that, a thin strip of hair disappeared between still-crossed legs. His pulse was beating harder and harder, practically thrumming in his ears. They had done this song and dance so many times already, but her magic was making it always feel like the first.

“What do you want, Robin?” Her real name flowed off his tongue as his voice dropped low, his hand reaching out and grabbing her at the hip. She was surprisingly warm in his palm, her skin delicate, and he could feel her coat’s lining rubbing against the back of his hand. Crocodile, without lifting his hand, moved it from her hip to her thigh, slowly uncrossing her legs. He stole a look between them, and saw the rest of that black strip and the impossibly soft skin beneath.

Robin chuckled, her eyes closing briefly as she smiled wide. Shifting her head gently, she kissed him on his hook. “I want  _ you.” _

Crocodile’s coat was thrown off his shoulders as he swept her off the desk with speed that surprised even him. He squeezed Robin tightly against his body, staying mindful of his hook as he held her tightly. Her lips had barely touched against his before her tongue was in his mouth, wrapping against his hungrily as those hands he loved tangled in his hair. Crocodile could feel his pants being undone, all urgency now, and being quickly tugged down to his knees. A growl slipped out as he felt Robin’s firm grip on his cock, one hand over the other, rubbing him and pressing him upwards. A thumb traced the ridge of the head, urging more fluid out of him and making his eyes roll back, before catching that same wetness and lazily smearing it on his shaft.

“I want you,” Robin whispered, breathless, arching her body and pressing her breasts against him. Her legs wrapped him on both sides, the stockings gliding over his clothes. She rocked her hips as he held her, and for a blissful moment, he felt the very tip of his cock brush impossibly wet warmth. Another set of arms bloomed from her shoulders, both hands flying at the buttons of his shirt and frantically undoing them. “I want you.  _ I want you.” _

He loosened his arms from around her and she slipped against him, one set of hands throwing open his shirt and another digging fingernails into his shoulders. The angle was right - he knew it would be - and he let out a loud groan that turned into another growl as he sank into her, swallowed into slick heat with a throbbing that matched his own. Robin whimpered, one set of arms vanishing into nothing as she pressed her face into his chest. Her breath was damp and hot on his bare skin, and she gripped his shoulders as she rocked her hips back and forth, drawing him deeper inside her as she slid down. Crocodile could feel his breathing coming heavier and heavier, heart pounding as he watched shivers rip through Robin, making her twist and undulate. 

Careful to keep his balance, Crocodile slowly turned around, dropping onto the edge of the desk where Robin had sat moments before. The suddenness of the impact bounced her on his lap, pressing him as far as he could go into her, coaxing a shivering moan from Robin as she rocked against him. She threw her head back, her black hair flying and catching the soft light, and Crocodile could see goosebumps cresting over her body. Her grip tightened, nails biting deeper into the skin of his shoulders as she shakily reoriented her legs, planting her feet firmly onto the edge of the desk on either side of his thighs.

“Robin.” Crocodile gently brought his hook behind her, nudging at the back of her head until she leaned in close to him. Her face was flushed, errant strands of black hair sticking to her forehead and cheekbones. “I want you to take what you want.”

She did not need to be told more than once. Feet flat and steady on the desk, Robin lifted herself from his lap, hovering above while holding him just inside her. Seconds later, she dropped back down, triggering more groaning from him as she let out a whine. She fell into a firm, steady rhythm easily, arching her back as her breasts bounced. Crocodile kept his hook at the small of her back to support her, bringing his hand to his mouth to lick at his fingertips before putting them to work at her nipples. Even the slightest touch drew more sounds from her, drove her to squeeze him tightly inside her as she rode, and Crocodile let his every sense be consumed with her.

A single arm sprouted from the desk beside them, reaching between their legs as she bounced on him and putting fingers to work against her. Crocodile, finding it harder to catch his breath, moved from her chest to replace that hand with his own.

“No,” Robin panted, her voice strained and low. “No. Keep it where it was. Please.  _ Please.” _

When could he ever deny her? Chuckling, Crocodile brought his hand back to her breasts, circling her nipple with his thumb and feeling how stiff it was to the touch. Robin’s head hung back as moans and whimpers came spilling from her lips, echoing around their room and filling Crocodile’s ears. There were few sounds he loved more. With each passing moment, with each motion as she rode him, he could tell she was getting close. It was in her breathing, in how tightly she squeezed him - he could practically smell it in her sweat. He knew he didn’t have much longer to go either, and had little doubt her pleasure would be what set him off. It always was.

“Crocodile.” Her voice was a rushed whisper, breathy and low. Blue eyes locked on his, and he felt her tightening around him as her motions became frenzied, her hips beginning to rock harder and twitch. “Please. Crocodile.  _ I want you.  _ Please.  _ Please.” _ Robin’s voice choked and broke off as her orgasm fully hit her, her whole body bucking and shaking as Crocodile held her tightly in his arms, feeling the vibrations of her moaning into his chest and the silkiness of her hair on his skin. She slammed down on him, hard, and he held her tightly in place as he filled her. The groaning and growling drowned out her cries as his eyes rolled back, basking in every sensation as he the wetness inside her growing, and her shaking in his arms.

“I want you,” Robin whispered as she began to regain her senses, still holding onto him as though she were drowning. Her legs were shaking and unsteady, and her stockings were beginning to slide down her thighs. She slumped against him, breathing heavily. “I want you.”

“You have me,” Crocodile murmured, struggling to catch his breath. He held her tightly to him, feeling the pounding of her heart in her chest, matching his beat for beat. Inhaling deeply, he lowered his face to the top of her head, and he could smell freesia again. “You have me. And I’m not going anywhere.”


End file.
